In an attempt to get more sunlight, throw off my funk and get some exercise, Katherine, Wikket and I walked to Middle Cove Beach again this morning. The sun was warm enough that I was able to walk in my shirt sleeves, at least while we were moving and I was pushing the stroller.
Katherine found some rocks to climb and I found some ocean to stare at. There’s nothing like having a long, hard look at nature (both its beauty and strength) to put your own life in perspective.
A small shed on the road leading to the beach:
The water was tossing and turning….
A serendipitous rainbow, that I didn’t even know I’d shot until I got home.
Rocks, hanging on for dear life:
Slippery when wet:
Because I quoted “Sea Fever by Masefield last time, you’r going to get E.J. Pratt’s “Newfoundland” this time. Only the first verse, though (it’s a long poem).
Here the tides flow,
And here they ebb;
Not with that dull, unsinewed tread of waters
Held under bonds to move
Around unpeopled shores—
Moon-driven through a timeless circuit
Of invasion and retreat;
But with a lusty stroke of life
Pounding at stubborn gates,
That they might run
Within the sluices of men’s hearts,
Leap under throb of pulse and nerve,
And teach the sea’s strong voice
To learn the harmonies of new floods,
The peal of cataract,
And the soft wash of currents
Against resilient banks,
Or the broken rhythms from old chords
Along dark passages
That once were pathways of authentic fires.